


Bad Post

by flippyspoon



Series: Modern and Interesting: Drabbles and Ficlets [12]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1983267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippyspoon/pseuds/flippyspoon





	Bad Post

The postman had let one of Jimmy’s letters fall behind a desk and it had been delayed two weeks.  Thomas had been off his head with worry.  

 

Jimmy was in America with Lord and Lady Grantham.  Half of the staff had followed and Thomas was left in Yorkshire.  A grave injustice, they’d both thought.  The beginning of a relationship was supposed to be filled with passionate lovemaking and flirtatious looks  at dinner.  Instead Jimmy was far away and Thomas was left to sulk as Daisy made him a third cup of tea.

Thomas had not seen Jimmy in four months.  Even worse, his letters were always pithy and uninformative outside of a little gossip about the family.

_Dear Thomas,_

_I miss you very much.  I wish you were here- we’d sneak off and have a right night on the town.  Accidently dropped a plate of scones on an oil man from Texas.  He laughed about it. Phew._

_Love,_

_Jimmy_

At least he signed them with love.  That was the delayed letter.

“Do your job, why don’t you!”  Thomas had been spitting mad when the postman informed him, chuckling, that the letter had been lost.   “You’re the stupidest bloody chump I’ve ever laid eyes on!  I ought to report you!  I think I will”   Then he had blushed and gone rigid with terror before storming off.

Thomas should have been grateful.  It was his last letter from Jimmy.

Two months later the family returned.

And Jimmy was not with them.

“Barrow, he’s resigned,” Lord Grantham said, frowning.  “I know you’re friends at least. I thought he’d have written you.”

In that moment Thomas felt the floor dropping out slowly from beneath him.  Walls moved.

“No…no, he didn’t write me,” Thomas said flatly.

“Put us in a spot, I’ll tell you,” Grantham sighed.  “I guess New York agreed with him.  But I’m sure we’ll find another man soon enough.”

“Sure we will,” Thomas muttered.

But Thomas knew he would not be finding another man.

Sure, there might be men.  But Jimmy Kent had been his greatest love.  He couldn’t imagine there would be another.

Six months of nothing letters and then…just nothing.

That night Thomas sat at his window and thought of them naked in his bed, Jimmy fidgeting with the hair on Thomas’s chest-his own golden waves disheveled and mussed up over his eyes as he grinned up at Thomas.

“This is the best thing there is,” Jimmy had said in his low voice.  “You’re the best thing there is.  Nothin’ better.”  He’d kissed Thomas’s chest over and over.  “I love you… I love you madly… God, how I love you…”

Thomas wept that night after Lord Grantham broke news.  He was tired of weeping over men but there was nothing for it.

That was it then.

Four more months passed with no word from Jimmy.  He was gone.  And all the playful pinches and knowing looks at card games and shared cigarettes and arguments over politics and religion (Jimmy didn’t know too much maybe, but he could have a good conversation even so) were gone with him.

“‘Course I’m alone.  Of course, I am.”  He said this to himself often.  Daisy saw how shattered he was.  She may not have completely understood it, but she knew Jimmy had mattered to him and that he was gone.  She brought him cakes.

When he was feeling particularly sorry for himself, Thomas went on walks.  He liked it when it rained to match his mood.  But he couldn’t help imagining Jimmy there beside him.  No one had made him laugh so much… No one had driven him so mad with both frustration and desire and enchantment…

“You know what I love most about you?”  Jimmy had said once.  They had been lying in the grass in a hidden corner of the estate- Jimmy completely taking over Thomas’s body.  It was as if Thomas was Jimmy’s own personal furniture- he lay half across him while inspecting Thomas’s wrists.

“What?”  Thomas had said, deeply curious.

“I don’t know either,” Jimmy had said, laughing and kissing his way up Thomas’s arm.  “I thought you might know. I can’t decide.”

“Oh, because I’m just so loveable?” Thomas had said warily.

“Yeah,’ Jimmy mumbled into his skin.

“Name five things.”

“Hmm?”

“Name five things you love about me.”

“Only five?  That’s easy.”  Jimmy had grinned, his eyes sparkled.  He rolled over, resting his head on Thomas’s stomach and staring up at the cerulean sky.  “You’re hard on the outside and it’s all just a ruse ‘cause you’re softer than a schoolgirl on the inside-”

Thomas snorted.

Jimmy went on:  “You’re witty and clever about most things.  You think you’re some great confidence man but you’re rubbish-”

“Oh, thanks very much-”

“Shh, I’m talkin’.  But you’re a very good liar-”

“That makes me lovable?”

“I find it interesting.  And you hate who you hate and you love who you love and you don’t care what anyone thinks and you hold your cigarette like you’ve got an audience watching and…and you look at me like I’m worth somethin’ and you don’t buy into nonsense and you’re ambitious and you’re passionate and brave and you take five minutes to butter your toast for some reason and you’re terrible at poker which I don’t make out at all but you’re an excellent dancer and-”

“That’s more than five things,” Thomas whispered.

Then Jimmy had looked up at him with a serious expression.  “Toldja’ I can’t decide on one.  I could go on all day.”  Then he’d kissed Thomas long and slow.

What had happened to all those things Jimmy had loved about Thomas?  There was something or someone in New York Jimmy just loved more, Thomas assumed.

The days were long and empty.  Thomas tried to sum up anger every once in a while.  It was tiring, but he felt if he didn’t then perhaps God had really beaten him.  There was a snippy house maid he didn’t like and Thomas framed her for stealing.  It gave him no satisfaction. For the first time in ages, he wished for O’Brien’s company.

But even more he wished for Jimmy.  It wasn’t fair.  Jimmy had resigned.  He had broken off their love affair without a word.  He’d cut Thomas’s heart out.  Thomas shouldn’t wish that things were different.  In fact, he should be grateful the little cur was gone.  But he wasn’t.  He was crushed.  He wanted that beautiful, funny man with the endless expressions of disdain and adoration to come back and tell Thomas just exactly why he was so lovable.  He wanted to nibble on Jimmy’s bum and curl behind him and feel that heartbeat under his palm and roll his eyes when Jimmy was angry at someone for no good reason and tease him about his vanity and…

He was thinking about all this yet again one day as he made his way back from the village.  It was autumn and dismal.  The sky was drizzling and Thomas had not thought to bring an umbrella or even a coat.  Heartbreak had made him a little forgetful, and he shivered.

“‘Course I’m alone.  Of course, I am.”

The grass was growing wild.   Thomas’s trousers were damp now from walking on the muddy turf and the drizzle was gradually turning into a proper rainstorm.    
“Figures,” Thomas grumbled.

Their relationship had begun with Jimmy slumping over.  At least that’s how Thomas had thought of it.  They’d been on another little walk-coming back from Ripon on a hot day.  They’d taken off their jackets and sat down for a smoke.

“Honestly,” Thomas had been saying, “Carson could see Lady Mary herself take off her dress and dance the can-can on the dining table and he’d still believe this was the eighteenth-”

“Thomas.”

“Hmm?”

Then Jimmy had simply slumped over into Thomas, his nose buried in Thomas’s shoulder.  
“Jimmy, what-”  
Jimmy had wrapped his arms around Thomas’s waist.  “Ah…ah, please…”  He’d squeezed Thomas so hard it was almost painful, but also rather child-like.  But Thomas’s first thought had not been romance- so extreme and strange was Jimmy’s sudden affection.  He was worried.   Until Jimmy had started pressing kisses to his neck.

“I need you, I need you, I love you, I’m sorry, Thomas…”

Apparently Jimmy had been feeling that way for quite a long time and so contained his feelings that they had burst out…a bit oddly.

Thomas shook his head now as if to will the memories away.  His hair was already dripping as he walked on towards Downton.  Everything was grey.

“Stupid,” he muttered.

Up ahead he saw a figure appear around the corner of a hedge.  Thomas thought he’d look a fool walking in the rain until he noticed whoever was walking towards him wasn’t wearing a coat or carrying an umbrella either.  The figure started running.  Thomas’s mind was playing tricks.  He was sure it was Jimmy.

Except it was Jimmy.

Thomas blinked and rubbed rainwater out of his eyes.

Jimmy was running towards him, his feet light on the wet, tall grass.

“Thomas!”  Yes, it was Jimmy.  “Thomas!  Thomas!”

Thomas stopped walking and froze.  Jimmy Kent was running towards him.  Jimmy wasn’t stopping either.  And suddenly there were arms around him.  Strong muscular arms wrapped around Thomas, gripping his soaking shirt, and he shut his eyes, willing himself to be firm and not give in.

“They told me what happened,” Jimmy babbled.  “I was so angry at you but they told me what happened!”

“Wha-”

“You didn’t get my letters, did you!”  Jimmy was grinning from ear to ear and then he pushed Thomas so that he was knocked back a few steps.  “I wanted to keep it a surprise but then you never wrote back!  I thought you’d thrown me over!  I couldn’t sleep! I couldn’t eat, Thomas!  I wept for days! Weeks!”  
“I…letters?”  Thomas said weakly.  “But..but you resigned.  You quit.  You stayed in… What are you doing here?”

For someone who’d been so angry, Jimmy couldn’t stop smiling.  “I bought us a shop,” Jimmy said softly.  “Well, I…I borrowed some money.  From Harold- I mean, Mr. Levinson.  We hit it off. He’s quite fun.  Fancied me an entreprenuer.  Me!  Or he said I’d be a good salesman anyhow.  I said you likely had the better head for business.  It’s just a little general store, Thomas.  But…we could sell clocks or pianos or…anything!  I wrote you though! So many letters!  You were supposed to come to New York and join me!  I didn’t feel quite safe writing anyone else.”

“A…shop?”  Thomas’s head was spinning.  He could hardly make sense of it.  “For what?”

“For us, you ninny!  Pay attention!  I mean Harold’ll get a percentage.  Until we pay him back.  But we will.  You and me, Thomas! In New York!  In America!  Our own place! Our own bed!”

“Why’d you come back?”  Thomas said.  His mind was blank.  He couldn’t bear to believe it all.

“For you, of course.”  Jimmy kissed him then.  They were still loitering in the storm like mad men.  But Jimmy clapped his hands to Thomas’s cheeks and kissed him.  “It doesn’t mean nothin’ without you there.  Besides…”  Jimmy laughed and rested his forehead against Thomas’s.  “Place’ll fold in a week without you to talk sense into me.”

Thomas closed his eyes, focusing on his breath and Jimmy’s breath warm on his lips.  His body was cold and wet but pressed against him, Thomas started to feel warmer.

“But I…I thought you threw me over,” Thomas said, still sputtering.  “For another man or a woman or…or money or…”

“No, no…”  Jimmy said.  “Never.”

“But the letters…”  Thomas brought his arms up to rest on Jimmy’s hips.

“Well, did you get on the wrong side of the postman again?”  Jimmy said.  “Like ya did last Christmas?”

Thomas blushed.  “Oh… Well.”

“See!”  He kissed Thomas’s cheek.  “See how stupid we are when we’re apart?”

Thomas shivered.  They were utterly drenched.  “We ought to get inside,” he muttered.

“I didn’t even ask you,” Jimmy said.  “I mean I did in the letters but…  Will you come with me then?”  

_Reasons why I love Jimmy Kent_ , Thomas thought.   _He looks frightened that I might actually say no._

Thomas kissed him.  “Don’t be stupid.”  Thomas smiled.

_Impossible to pick just one_ , he thought, as they kissed there in the rain.

 

 


End file.
